ARMA: Callsign Fury
by adipose1913
Summary: When the mercenary plane Night Fury is called as support to Stratis, Astrid runs into someone she thought was dead. ARMA 3 AU. Rated M for violence, violations of the Geneva Convention, and swearing. WARNING: there will be Hiccstrid. Cover is free domain. *On Hiatus*
1. Ch 1: Those who are dead

**I apologize for the long wait only to not get the story I promised. I am just plain stuck on the first chapter of** _ **The Wings of Space and Time**_ **. I a struggling on writing in the style I want to for the Armin POV as well as keeping The Doctor IC. I needed to vent my frustration, so this is what I cooked up while fighting writer's block on** _ **The Wings of Space and**_ **Time. I probably won't continue any time soon, but I see great potential for this idea, as well as the lack of Arma on this site.**

 **Seriously, no Arma? Between multiplayer and single-player scenarios, someone else had to have seen this potential for crossovers! Oh well, at least I can get a new idea out there.**

 **A note for any Arma nerds reading: I took a big liberty and have NATO field multiple companies on Stratis, something that is not possible in-game, and is done for tension. I use Shack Tactical's model for company size and organization, as I like how Dsylexi organized it. as well as a couple of non-Arma craft. This is done to make the story more interesting and Hiccup a unique vehicle. With all that said, enjoy the tale!**

 **I do own HTTYD or Arma 3.  
**

* * *

 **Stratis, 1900 hours, five minutes to sunset.**

They were saved by the offspring of Lightning and Death itself.

Sargent Astrid Hofferson of the NATO Armed Forces had been gripping her MX with a G3 GL tightly, looking nervously into the oncoming OPFOR forces. There were hundreds of ground troops and dozens of tanks headed for where Captain Hofferson had holed up with roughly a Company's worth of troops she had been able to rally from the remains of the 5 battalions sent into battle. NATO generals had seen the bait and couldn't resist it. The ambush had been swift, an air attack followed by a large ground assault, and had devastated the army to the point where Astrid was the highest ranking officer still alive. Her makeshift battalion had fortified an abandoned base known as mike-26 on her orders. Now, they were making their last stand here, trying to hold back the onslaught of OPFOR until help could arrive.

 _If help was coming at all,_ Astrid thought. She wasn't sure how long they could hold out. The ragtag companies were low on food and ammunition, with only a dozen anti-tank rockets left.

Thankfully, Astrid soon found out exactly how long they needed to hold out for when the radio next to her blazed to life. "Nest One to Stormfly, Do you copy?"

Astrid leaped for the utility radio. Barely avoiding a sniper round, she replied, "this is Stormfly, how copy?"

"Who is this? What happened to General Ramerez?"

Astrid nearly choked. "He's been dead for over an hour. This is Platoon Sergeant Astrid Hofferson, 3rd company, second platoon, current ranking officer on the field. I have approximately one Company's fortified in Mike-twenty-six. We request immediiate support, over."

There was a pause over the radio, followed by "Ten-Four, Stormfly, We are sending an attack aircraft, ETA Ten Mikes, with transport in Fifteen mikes."

Astrid let out the breath she had been holding in, then realized what the air support was. "Nest One, confirm the type and quantity of air support, over."

"Nest One Copies, air support consists of one fixed-wing PMC aircraft, callsign Fury. Transport consists of seven Huron transports, with three fire teams per Helli. That is all we can spare right now. Good Luck, Nest one over and out."

Astrid ground her teeth. She utterly despised mercenaries. Here home, Berk, had been raided by that scum for fifty years, no reason apparent. When she came of age, fifteen by Berkian tradition, she had trained with the militia to fight the mercs, but had been offered the chance to join NATO as an officer in training. She had jumped at the chance, anything to get away from the dangerous yet boring life on Berk.

Two months later, word reached her that Berk had been destroyed and only a when a counterstrike by Stoik, Berk's militia general, had failed, leading to a massive, piratically mythological cruiser known as the Red Death had attacked the island. Very few details were known of the battle, but it appeared that the battle had ended after Hiccup, the village runt of all people, had destroyed the Red Death in a commandeered Typhoon.

That was five years ago. Now, Astrid would take whatever she could get for support.

Astrid tuned her Radio to broadcast to all troops. "All right, maggots," she yelled, "listen up! The two remaining HMGs will set up at opposite ends of the compound with overlapping arcs on the west, that's where the main push will come from. Squads alpha and bravo will set up on the ridges to our north and east to watch for a push on the flanks. The rest of you, split up by fireteam and take cover either in a building or at the wall. Save as many rockets as possible, and only take a anti-tank shot when you can. Don't be picky on ammo, but don't waste it. All we need to do is hold back the tanks for five minutes, the infantry for a little longer than that. Good luck, and make it home."

Astrid turned off her radio and turned to the fight ahead of her.

* * *

The next ten minutes of fighting were tense and frantic. Thankfully, while ten soldiers were shot, only three were KIA. The rest had their wounds binded and got back in the fight. The surrounding trees aand ridges greatly hindered the movement of vehicles, forcing the tanks to approach in twos and ones. The infantry, however, had swarmed, wall after wall of soldiers attacking the compound. Few had successfully flanked, the ridge teams doing their job. As night fell, goggles came on and flares went up. Astrid felt that, for a moment, this fight was winnable.

Those hopes were soon dashed.

"Contact far," Alpha Leader yelled over the comm, "two Hornets due North!"

"Contact, six tanks Southwest far!"

Astrid stood, shocked. The choppers slowly became audible. This was it. Those two choppers had enough firepower to level the compound alone. Combined with a column of six tanks, there was no way they could survive. They were as good as dead.

"Sir," Heather, Company medic and Astrid's closest friend, snapped her back to reality. "What are your orders?"

Astrid opened her mouth to give a possible retreat strategy, but was interrupted by a screech Astrid had heard only one place before. Old reflexes dating back to Berk took command. "HIT THE DECK!"

As everyone got to the ground, Astrid lost her NV goggles just in time to see the two helicopters explode as missles were dumbfired right into their fuel tanks. Rockets and a cannon had joined the cacophony of a light show, devestating the line of tanks. A dark black shape flashed past, but it vanished before anyone could even tell where the plane was, much less what it looked like.

"Night Fury," Astrid whispered in awe.

"What's a night fury?" Heather asked the prone Astrid.

Astrid stood up. "It's a mercenary plane that use to terrorize my homeland. We called it that because of how it resembled an old legend from my home. It never is seen, never uses the radio," Astrid winced as another explosion rocked the island, "and never misses."

"THAT's our backup?"

"If it is," Astrid responded, reaching for the radio, "we better make contact." Astrid spoke into the radio.

"Fury, Fury, Fury, this is Stormfly, we have a possible visual on you and require audio confirmation, how copy, over."

"Damn," a sarcastic voice replied, "my fancy engines and mach 2.6 didn't work. Oh well, at least the tank column are having a harder time of it."

Astrid frowned, not at the lack of radio discipline, but the voice itself. It sounded _really_ familiar. "Stormfly to fury, confirm enemy troop numbers please, over."

"This is Fury, there appears to be three infantry Platoons approaching your position, with more en route to a rendezvous farther off. Looks like you and I fucked over their armor, though, there are only seven tanks left in combat condition. How do I earn my paycheck, over."

Astrid, still trying to pinpoint the voice, gave the pilot his orders. "Fury, your orders are to destroy any remaining tanks and draw fire away from the compound. The cooler the LZ is, the safer the evac will be."

"So I am playing bullet magnet. Pain, love it!"

At that moment, Astrid knew who the voice was. She was utterly speachless. _No,_ she thought, _it can't be him._

"See you when I am not dead, Fury out."

 _After all this time, could he still be alive?_

Astrid's voice was extremely distant as she gave orders. "Alpha and Bravo fall back to the compound. All squads are on security for extraction."

"Yes, sir."

"On our way."

Heather slowly approached Astrid. "You recognize his voice, don't you?"

Astrid absentmindedly twirrled her braid, taking off her helmet while entering a building. "All this time, and I was told he was dead."

Immediatley, Heather knew who she was talking about. There was only one person from Berk, what little the two friends talked about it, who Astrid regarded with anything other than contempt or professional admiration. Astrid's next words confirmed Heather's guess.

"Hiccup is the one flying that plane."


	2. Ch 2: but I do it in the best way

**Hello, Internet, and welcome to chapter 2 of ARMA: Callsign Fury! From here on, the story will alternate between Hiccup's and Astrid's perspective and it will also alternate between the present and the Red Death incident.**

 **An Important announcement: this story will be changed to rated M three days after this chapter is posted. This is because of some events that happen in the story that some readers will find disturbing. You have been warned!**

 **Also, some keener readers may have noticed that the chapter name was taken from the lyrics of Coldplay's "42" off of the album Viva La Vida. The complete line goes "Those who are dead are not dead/ they're just living in my head." I chose this title to refer to Hiccup's reappearance in Astrid's life, but also to refer to the fact that Astrid is still haunted by the destruction of her home. All of the chapter names will be taken from lyrics of various songs, but most will be less vague than the last chapter (hopefully). Try and guess the meaning of this chapter's name and where the name comes from in your reviews, and compare notes with my answer next chapter. If we don't match up, it just means you got something else out of the chapter or lyric than I intended, and that is the beauty of literature. I can't wait to hear your interpretations!**

 **Final important bit of news: I am not going to follow the canon of ARMA 3. I am using the world it makes and adding my own details, like NATO now having a multinational army under one banner (IRL NATO does not have an organized military, they are a coalition of multiple militaries.) I am doing this to keep the story interesting and not just be a rehash of an old story. Similarly, I will be borrowing characters and events from HTTYD, but don't expect a straight retelling. I apologize for any OOC characters from anywhere.**

 **With all that said, let's get this show on the road!**

 **I do not own Httyd or ARMA.**

* * *

 **Stratis, 19:15 local time, emergency exfil LZ**

"Final Helo is here! Alpha, load up."

Astrid waved her troops onto the final Huron as the other six helicopters headed for the horizon. Both of Alpha squad's fire teams boarded the Huron heavy transport chopper, the modern replacement of the Chinook, while Astrid provided security with the platoon one's Platoon Medic, forward observer, and Heather, the Company medic. Keeping an eye out for any enemies, Astrid waved the command staff onto the chopper, providing final security by the ramp.

Astrid had not seen any contacts for the past four minutes, with the choppers arriving two minutes ago. If Astrid looked west, she could see the burning vehicles of the OPFOR. A black Jet was weaving between the trees, drawing fire it easily dodged, doing a corkscrew to fly a few inches above the power lines. It looked like Hiccup was doing his job.

 _Hiccup…_ Astrid still couldn't believe that he, of all the militiamen on Berk, got away. Now that she thought about it, Hiccup had been a klutz and a bit of a goofball, but get him into the simulators and he could outfly anyone and was a brilliant marksmen. _A pity Berk had no Air Force or dedicated marksmen,_ Astrid thought. On Berk, you were an officer, a machine gun crew member, or a Rifleman. Berk didn't have the roads or space for any vehicles, or the demand for accurate fire. The emphasis was always on volume of fire, not accuracy.

Astrid was jolted back to the present by Heather Boarding the heli. Quickly, Astrid took a seat in the crowded transport. "We're in!" Astrid shouted over the handheld radio.

"Roger, this is Cloudjumper 7, taking off and flying east of LZ."

The Huron took off, banking to the left as it took off. Astrid looked around the inside of the chopper.

In all, only five soldiers had died in the fifteen minutes they had waited from when support had been radioed in to when the final chopper had lifted off. It was small consolation for the hundreds that died in the initial ambush, but it was less tears and more families reunited, in Astrid's eyes. Astrid looked at the men in the chopper, and saw that all fourteen of them were ragged but relieved.

Heather was staring straight at Astrid. They were sitting next to each other, making it easier to have a private conversation. Between the chopper blades and mp3 players other soldiers were using, it was unlikely someone was eavesdropping.

"Are you sure?"

Astrid didn't need a name. There was only one person Heather would be asking about.

"I am not totally sure, but my gut is telling me that was Hiccup's voice."

Heather chuckled. "Was he always that sarcastic?"

"Yeah, and he always was making a mess of things. I only talked to him six times in my life, two of which were to yell at him. However, he was the kindest person on the island, and was the only sincere person when I was recruited…"

Heather leaned back into her seat and remained silence. Astrid thought back to the last time she had seen Hiccup, the day she had left Berk…

* * *

 **5 years ago…**

Astrid sighed as she approached the dock, noticing that very few people had shown up to see her off.

Her parents were here, as was Gobber, the island's weaponsmith and quartermaster. Other than that, none of her "friends" had shown up.

Astrid had suspected that this would happen the moment the man from NATO had recruited her for the Bellona initiative. The initiative's purpose was to choose bright soldiers from its member's officer academies and train them to lead NATO units that were not defined by nation, but ran as one cohesive army. Anyone who wasn't jealous was going to be resentful. Even though Berk had been a NATO member since the eighties, there had been a lot of resentment leveled at the organization because of its lack of support in dealing with the pirate problem, something about many of the planes and soldiers seen in battle with Berk "not existing."

Astrid mentally shrugged. At least it was an opportunity to get off this rock.

Astrid heard a cough behind her. She turned to see Hiccup.

Astrid rolled her eyes. Hiccup and Astrid barely knew each other, but Astrid had noticed the vast improvements Hiccup had been making in combat in the last few days. He finally got the volume-of-fire thing down, and had taken out Snotlout and even a few instructors in sparring. He even beat Astrid's score in the "kill house," a combination obstacle course and shooting gallery. This was after Astrid had accepted NATO's offer, so there was no animosity between them because of this.

However, the young warrior was still guarded. The General's son had not taken his turn at making fun of her, and she was ready for whatever he would throw at her.

"What do you want?"

Hiccup winced visibly. "I just wanted to say you did a great job!" hiccup said hesitantly. "Anyone with half a brain would be jealous of your opportunity."

Astrid was caught off guard. "Wait, you think I deserved the job?"

Hiccup nodded eagerly. "Well, you are the best fighter in Berk, and I only have become competent in the last week."

Astrid lightly punched his soldier. "Hey, you have what it takes to be top of the class. Keep at it and you will finally have something to be proud of."

For a second, Hiccup looked ashamed of something. Then, he suddenly lit up. "By the way, Dad told me it is Berkian tradition for the ranking cadet – or squire, this dated back to the Norman Conquest of England – to give an officer leaving for war a practical gift when he or she left. So," Hiccup reached into his pouch. "I whipped up this in the forge last night."

Hiccup handed Astrid out a short, curved knife in a custom sheath. When she unsheathed the dagger, it was a double edged, wickedly sharp, fixed blade made out of a black metal. There was a ring in the handle, presumably for a finger.

"It's called a Karambit," Hiccup supplemented, "and is the ultimate self-defense weapon, with great versatility and a killer arch in the right hands." Astrid sheathed the knife, and handed it back to Hiccup when he gestured. He showed her how to hold it. "Traditionally, it is held with the ring running through your ring finger, your hand making a fist around the handle, and the blade curving downward. It is an extension of your fist."

Astrid raised an eyebrow as she put the knife on her belt. "Since when were you an expert on knives?"

Hiccup had that guilty look again. "Well working in the weaponsmith has made me meet some… er… interesting people."

Astrid could sense more to the story, but before she could ask or even thank him, a voice yelled louder than a volcano from the docks. "Hofferson! We are leaving in five, fall in!"

Astrid leapt towards the docks. "Thanks, Hiccup! See you around!"

"Hey, keep yourself safe okay?"

By then, she was already gone.

* * *

Astrid was jolted back to the present when the Huron jolted.

"And that," The thick Scottish accent of the lead pilot droned over the radio, "Is how you exfil a battalion. Great work out there boys!"

Astrid unloaded the chopper with the rest of her men. General David Armstrong was there to meet her. This man had been involved in every international crisis since 1985, from being a lowly private in the cold war to a general during Operation Harvest Red. Now, he was in charge of the liberation of Altis and Stratis. Astrid saluted him and kept walking when it was returned.

"I apologize if I seem in a hurry, general, but I need to meet the pilot that flew CAS for us."

"I can't say I blame you," the General drawled. "Seeing that he personally commended your actions on the battlefield."

Astrid was shocked. "I… was not aware of that, sir," Astrid hesitantly spoke, "I just thought he might be someone I knew who's supposed to be dead, and I want to no why."

General Anderson made a small "huh" and gestured for Astrid to follow. "If that is the case, you know more This 'Night Fury' has quite the record. Did you know that he appeared from nowhere in that heavily modified Typhoon of his five years ago, and has no legal name, no place of residence, not even a bank account! He takes only unmarked gold bullions or even ammunition for his payment. He has done many missions for us for the past year, and one of the requests of his agreement is that he is requested to take off his helmet during meals only, and even then, only the commanding officer of the base and any Cos of missions he is assigned to get to see his face, and when they do, they must keep it confidential what they see? He even gets an entire hanger to himself and his ground crew!"

"Ground crew?" Astrid questioned.

"I have no information on them, either! This guy isn't even a ghost, he'd have to exist first to be one! And I don't like it one bit." The general stopped outside of a trailer and sighed. "However," Armstrong admitted, "he is a good pilot, and he also has a strong – yet not quite north-pointing – moral compass, if his mission record is anything to go by. Well, Sargent Astrid," Astrid met the general's eyes. "Are you ready for your first meeting with the demons of the other military?"

Astrid took a deep breath. The general had no idea how many demons had been awakened for her today. "Sure."

The General opened the door, and they stepped in.

Sitting at the table was a pilot in a black custom flight suit. He was scrawny, yet still looked like he could hold his own in a fight. The helmet blocking his face had a one-way visor with bumps up the middle mimicking a dragon. There were several pockets across the entire suit, holding everything from a knife to a journal. **(A/N basically picture Hiccup's outfit from HTTYD 2 if Charlie from** _ **splinter cell**_ **had designed it.)** He had stood up as if in shock when the NATO soldiers walked through the door, revealing his prosthetic leg. _How did he get that?_ Astrid wondered.

"So, you are the mysterious night fury. I am General David Armstrong, leader of the NATO division here in the Greek isles."

The mercenary wasn't listening. In shock, he slowly removed his helmet. He was no older then twenty, with jade-green eyes, brown unruly hair, and a slight chin stubble. When he opened his mouth to speak, Astrid noticed a small scar on his right cheek. "I'm sorry, but what is this young lady's name?"

Astrid blinked at his voice, which sounded completely different than the rugged mercenary he looked like, definitely Hiccup's voice.

Astrid quickly responded to the question. "Sargent Astrid Hofferson, NATO combined forces."

Something flashed across the mercenary's face, then he visibly relaxed. "Okay, you looked a lot like someone I know from Arendelle, she… got into some trouble back home."

Astrid didn't buy the cover-up, and neither did the general, if his face was anything to go by. "Were you close to this individual?" Armstrong asked.

Hiccup sighed. "No, but… we were sort of friends. So, why did you want me?"

Armstrong hesitated. "I just wanted you to know, good job, and you have full access to hanger three, as promised. Oh, I also wanted to invite you and Hofferson to Dinner in my office."

Astrid squirmed, and Hiccup had a look that said he didn't want to be in contact with Astrid for fear of blowing his identity. _Kind of killed that when you took off the helmet, Haddock._

However, the tone of the invitation made it clear that "no thank you" wasn't a valid answer.

"Okay," Hiccup answered, "I'll see you there. I am so…"

"…Leaving. We're leaving!"

Hiccup Horrendous Haddock the Third glared around his hanger. Where was his ground crew? He had called the gate and had been told that his ground crew had already arrived, and the fuel truck was hooked to the plane, so where was he?

Hicuup's "ground crew" consisted of one man who was his remote support, wingman, head mechanic, and mentor, all rolled into one twenty-five-year-old package. This merc had been the man who had allowed hiccup not just to survive officer training at Berk, but also to top the class.

Hiccup chuckled at the memory, and looked at his airplane. It was a heavily modified Eurofighter Typhoon, its black exterior being an aftermarket reskinning with cutting edge nanoplastics, stronger lighter, and more durable than any metal known to mankind. Because of this, and many other modifications made the plane faster and more maneuverable than any other planes in existence, while still packing a punch with a built-in cannon and nine hardpoints. Unlike the base model, this Typhoon could tackle ground targets without compromising brutal air-to-air dogfighting as its niche.

It was their baby, and Hiccup's wingman was constantly tweaking, tuning, and repairing the black fighter.

Unfortunately, he wasn't there now.

"C'mon buddy!" Hiccup yelled, "I got our payment, and we are blowing this town before any more old faces show – hey, Astrid!"

Hiccup mentally kicked himself. He should have noticed that someone else had entered the hangar, but he had been mentally distracted.

"Stop playing games, Hiccup," Astrid scowled. "I know it's you, and I want to know why you are here."

Hiccup sighed. He had not expected nor planned to keep his identity secret forever, but he had wanted to reveal on his terms, not the whim of someone trying to find out his past.

That obviously wasn't happening now.

Hiccup put his hands up in surrender. "Alright you caught me, Astrid. I am Hiccup, I survived the massacre at Berk, and I went on to become a grizzled mercenary feared on the air and ground. Take what you will from that."

There was a tense silence. Hiccup knew Astrid would be bitter, as they were two of the Eighty-Nine Berkians still left on Earth, and he had been hiding in plain sight all this time.

SLAM!

Hiccup reeled at the punch to the gut. "That's for the lies," she spat. "And _that's_ …" she grunted from elbowing the pilot into the tarmac, "… for everything else."

Hiccup groaned, then heard the distinct lack of a DMR having a round chambered. "Oh Crap."

Astrid looked at the newcomer, then yelled "Get down!" This proved not necessary, as the newcomer, clad in a black jumpsuit, merely dropped the DMR and pulled out a combat knife. Astrid reached down for her pistol, unbuttoning the sheaf for her Karambit in the process.

Hiccup saw this going bad quickly, so he stood up, flinged Astrid's gun to the side, and put his arms up.

"Whoa dude, it's okay!" Astrid looked on in horror and shock as Hiccup's best friend came to a stop, silently growling and staring dead at Astrid with piercing, acid-green eyes.

"Sorry Astrid," Hiccup said, trying to keep Astrid from going ballistic, "you scared him."

"I scared HIM?"

"He's a mercenary with some skeletons who also is my ground crew. He gets jumpy when it comes to my safety."

"Hiccup?"

The boy from Berk turned around, and was startled by how uncertain Astrid looked. She was always confident and never seemed hesitant. What had thrown her off?

"Who is he?"

Hiccup tensed, not sure if he was ready for this. He was Hiccup's best friend, Hiccup's wingman, and Hiccup's mentor. He was a master pilot, a widowed husband, and a father separated from his daughter. His world had been destroyed, and his only friend and family was now Hiccup. Hiccup took a step back, and introduced the mercenary.

"Astrid, meet Toothless. Toothless, Astrid."


	3. Ch 3: It's the fall before the climb

**Hello, internet, and welcome to chapter 3 of ARMA: Callsign Fury! I was not satisfied with my early drafts of this chapter at all, so I took longer than usual. Sorry about that!**

 **Now, let's talk about last chapter's title. "But I do it in the best way" was referring to the line from Immortals by Fall Out Boys which goes like this: "I'm bad behavior but I do it in the best way." I chose this as a nod at Astrid's view of mercenaries as scum, and how Hiccup is now one of these scum. I know, kind of lame, but only one important thing happened last chapter, and I didn't want to ruin it. Let's see what you think of this chapter and its title in the reviews. On with the show!**

 **I do not own ArmA or HTTYD.**

* * *

 **Five Years Ago**

 **Island of Berk**

"Give me something to shoot at, give me something to shoot at."

Hiccup repeated this mantra under his breath as he adjusted the sights of his ancient but modified anti-tank rifle. Hiccup _would_ down a plane tonight.

It was the middle of a raid. Once again, the mercenaries had besieged Berk to destroy and disrupt supplies. The two squads of troops had been turned back an hour earlier, it was the air-raid that was the real problem. This was also the weak point in Berk's defenses, as the island had fielded no air force since Allied Fighters and Bombers were staged there in World War Two. The smallish island had very light anti-air emplacements, and couldn't afford much in the way of anti-air missiles and artillery, so many Berkian squads were prided for their ability to bring down planes with rocket volleys or concentrated small-arms fire. Hiccup didn't have any of those. What he did have, though, was the uncanny ability to hit a dime-sized target from two-thousand feet.

Unfortunately, the rest of Berk didn't have the recourses nor the ideals to support dedicated marksmen or snipers, and instead focused on brining as much punishment to bear as possible against the threat.

Hiccup wanted to change that.

He took a breath, listening to the night. He was set up on the east side of the village, using the balcony of the conference center as his sniper's nest. No one had attacked this side of the village yet, and no one was actively guarding it, which made the armed watch tower on this side of town a prime target. Suddenly, Hiccup heard the horrible screech of Night Fury.

Hiccup was afraid. _How the hell do I hit that?_ Hiccup asked himself. He already had the answer, which relied as much on cunning and luck as much as it relied on skill.

The young Berkian to the right of the watch tower, zeroing in the distance. The tower was lit up in a plume of rockets as Night Fury made his pass. This backlighted the black airplane of death, showing his chosen recovery path would go right across Hiccup's chosen viewpoint, flying left to right across it.

Acting on instinct, hiccup lead the target, stopped his breathing, and squeezed the trigger.

A massive BANG rattled the island, deathening Hiccup and landing him on his butt. He was able to keep the gun straight during the main firing, though, and his aim was true. The fifty-caliber bullet slammed into the engine housing, rending metal and wires. Hiccup didn't see the full extent of the damage, but he did see the ailerons corkscrew and the fighter sprawl towards the earth.

Hiccup got up, stunned. "I, I did it!" he exclaimed. He quickly turned towards the main battle and put his arms out in a come-at-me gesture.

"Did anyone fucking see that?"

His only response was the thunder of a gunship hovering towards him.

"Except for you."

* * *

 **Present Day**

Hiccup stood there awkwardly as Astrid and Toothless glared at each other. The two of them had not moved since they had been introduced. Without taking her eyes off of Toothless, Astrid asked, "What's his real name?"

"Well, he can't speak," Hiccup responded hesitantly, "and he refuses to write down his name anyways, so I gave him the nickname off of a picture I found of his first airplane. He doesn't roll his eyes when I say it, so…" Hiccup gulped. He didn't want to go into how his wingman had lost his vocal chords, so he really hoped the explanation satisfied Astrid.

Hiccup took a deep breath, and continued. "Astrid," He started, much more firmly than earlier, "I know you must have a million questions for me, and I want to talk to you, but let's do it somewhere more comfortable. Toothless, did you get us a room in the barracks?"

After a curt nod from Toothless, the trio made their way through the base to the temporary living quarters. After they sat down and hiccup had poured some stiff brandy, the trio sat in an uncomfortable silence, which was broken by Astrid. "Okay," she began, sounding a little more relaxed than earlier, "Let's start with how you two met."

Hiccup sheepishly rubbed his neck. "The funny thing is," he chuckled, "we met because I shot him down."

Astrid's lip curled up. "Sounds like the beginning of a beautiful friendship."

Hiccup shrugged. "All I did was get lucky. It wasn't like I did anything major."

Toothless swatted the back of his partner's head and handed a piece of paper over to Astrid. Hiccup winced, knowing it was the damage assessment Toothless had made of the plane that Hiccup had shot down. Astrid's eyebrows shot up as she read it. "Hiccup," she stated in a shocked tone, "you call this lucky? You totaled one engine and overheated the other. With an anti-tank rifle! At a plane going at attack speed after a dive!"

Hiccup sighed. "I only got that shot because the typhoon was backlighted against an explosion. It was merely good circumstances that allowed the shot."

Astrid shook her head. "That must have got you some sort of praise, though, shooting down a plane like that."

"Actually, I was on the exact opposite side of the village from everyone else when I shot down the plane, which was painted pitch black, and the plane itself never came closer than a kilometer to my position, so no one but me saw it go down, making it hard to convince Dad to put together a search party. Also, it was a full day before I found the wreckage, so more important things than tracking down a destroyed airplane came up." Hiccup paused. "Enough about me now. What about you? How has NATO been going?"

"It has been crazy. I started out as a fireteam leader and have slowly worked my way up to platoon sergeant. Deployments are rare compared to some other militaries, and advancement opportunities are even more so." Astrid sighed, lost in thought. "However, these people feel more like family than anyone on Berk ever did. For example, Heather, the platoon medic, sought me out the month after I graduated and asked me about my home. Talking with her helped me cope with the disaster at Berk." Astrid hesitated, and Hiccup knew immediately what she was going to ask. "What exactly happened on Berk?"

Hiccup got as still as a rock, a hurricane of emotions settling inside him. How was he going to explain that he had forced both Berk and the outcasts to go, all in, with the only winners being those who had survived? Where did he even start?

Fortunately, Hiccup was spared from the question by the arrival of another soldier. She had black hair and a medic patch. "Sir, you are wanted."

Astrid turned around, and her eyes lit up. "Oh, Hiccup, this is Heather, my best friend and a stellar medic."

Hiccup nodded towards the stunned medic. "Ma'am."

Heather nodded hesitantly, then stated "the general also wanted you, sir."

Uncertainly, Hiccup, Astrid, and Toothless got up and left the barracks. Astrid spoke suddenly.

"You never did tell me how you met him."

Hiccup rubbed the back of his neck. "Well, I went looking for his crash…"

* * *

 **Five Years ago…**

Hiccup let out a groan. "No, other kids lose pens, or knifes, I have to lose an ENTIRE AIRPLANE?" Hiccup shoved a branch, which whipped back and hit him in the face. Wincing, Hiccup looked up at the tree…

To see that the tree had been sheared almost in half.

Looking down the hill, he could see a swathe of carnage, ending near a smaller hill, behind which smoke was rising. Quickly, Hiccup ran to the small cusp, and peered over.

There was the plane he had shot down!

"I, I did it," Hiccup said in disbelief. More cautiously, Hiccup took the pistol off of his belt, an m1911. Slowly approaching the wreckage, Hiccup saw that the pilot was still in the cockpit. Brining his pistol up, the young Berkian approached the wreckage. _If I get the pilot,_ Hiccup thought, _that will change everything._ More confidently, he moved towards the cockpit.

He almost threw up when he saw the pilot. A mass of twisted metal, maybe the electronics, pinned the pilot in place, deep cuts and gashes running across his face and chest. His torn jumpsuit revealed a part of the canopy had impaled the pilot. What made Hiccup stop, though, was the pilot's appearance.

 _He can't be much older than I am!_ Hiccup stood there, slightly startled by how young the pilot was. He was indeed not much older than hiccup, looking like he was merely on the other side of puberty from the feared flyer of the Night Fury. Suddenly, the pilot's eyes opened, revealing the acid-green irises, which widened in fear.

Hiccup brought up his pistol. _Come on, Hiccup,_ he told himself. The pilot closed his eyes accepting the inevitable. _This pilot has killed dozens of your brethren. You want them avenged, don't you? You want this war to end! You want to see them dead, don't you?_

 _No._

Hiccup lowered his pistol. _Not like this. No one deserves to die like a dog._ "I did this," he muttered, disbelief and regret emitting from every muscle.

Hiccup bent down and tried to move the metal off of the pilot, straining from the effort. The pilot's eyes opened in surprise, then narrowed in determination. With the combined strength of the two young men, they got the twisted wreckage off of the wounded pilot.

As soon as the metal was off, the pilot leapt up and grabbed Hiccup's pistol, a look of anger and fear on his face. Hiccup was shocked as he was pinned to the ground and had his own pistol leveled at his face. _So much for the Good Samaritan,_ Hiccup thought. Something gleamed in the pilot's eyes, then he stood up. The pilot, all the while glaring at Hiccup, released the clip onto the ground, ejected the bullet in the chamber, and threw the gun into a nearby bush.

The pilot then limped away from Hiccup's shocked expression, not looking back.


	4. I'm sorry

I appoligize, and I hate to do this, but I have lost the momentum of ideas for this story. as of right now, Callsign: Fury is on hiatus. I might right some more around march, but I have other stories I want to write that I have consistent Ideas for. This message will be removed when the story goes off hiatus.


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